Nomine Patri
by BlueMew
Summary: Alexander Anderson has spent his life in the service of his Church, but unfortunately, his Church does not regard him as it once did. What will he do to win back their adoration? COMPLETED!
1. New Orders

In Nomine Patri. Latin is quite fitting for everyone's favorite Animated Catholic Priest, and "In the name of the Father" is going to be my first Anderson-centric fic. I'm just using my liberties as the writer to change/make up things about Anderson's past, so please don't be mean about this fic's interpretation of the paladin. I don't own Hellsing or the characters, and I must thank the creators for making such a wonderful series! For those who can't read Latin. . . . .it's the stuff in italics, and translations will be at the bottom of the page. I feel that it is only fitting for a man of the Roman Catholic faith that feels he is a supreme servant of God's Will to speak in the language of the early Church. Also, 5 years of formal Latin training and attending Catholic Mass on a weekly basis have given me the power to quote the High Mass fairly accurately. I apologize for the confusion it will most likely cause!  
  
~*~In Nomine Patri~*~  
by BlueMew  
  
"Father Anderson!" A young priest skidded to a stop in front of the dormitory-styled room where Vatican Section XIII kept its most prized weapon, both out of breath and carrying a note with the Pope's own seal on it. "I am truly sorry for bothering your meditation, but I was given this to bring to you, and His Excellency has asked that I make sure it arrived as quickly as I could run."  
Alexander Anderson sighed as he closed his bright eyes, standing from his genuflected position in front of his patron saint, the Archangel Michael, where he had been asking for strength for his upcoming battles against the undead. "Thank you Brother. May God always look kindly upon thee. Please leave the note on my pillow and close the door as you leave."  
"Yes Father." The young priest bowed as he set the note on the small cot-like bed and backed from the room. "Kyrie." (KIR-ee-ay)  
"Aye, Kyrie." A small smile spread across the lips of the regenerator as he sat on his bed and took the note from its envelope. He would be grateful for another mission, especially if it did not require travel to England. That dreadful country had not only conquered his ancestors, but had now been the only place where he had not been thoroughly successful in carrying out God's orders.  
Carefully unfolding the paper, he glanced down at it, more curious to see where he would be heading than what he would have to defeat.  
Unfortunately, Anderson was not reading anything like his typical battle orders.  
  
Father A. Anderson, Section Thirteen  
I would like to thank you for your service in the field during every recent mission that Section Thirteen has participated in over the past decade. Your work is a fitting tribute to God, and you are by far the most effective exorcist ever known to the modern faith.  
Fr. Enrico Maxwell has informed me of the special training you received and the implants that have made you what you are today. Now knowing this, I regretfully must inform you that you are now not unique in your abilities.  
Luckily, you will be around to help train the newest Section Thirteen Regenerator Recruits. Starting in two weeks, I ask that you hold special training classes for the recruits so that all may be as talented as you Father. With this new holy army, the Vatican will be able to spread God's work more effectively, and God has chosen you to be to these men what St. Paul was to the Romans.  
Ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam.  
  
Anderson sighed as he laid the letter next to him on the bed. This would be a challenge, and God was testing him as he tested every servant that he had called to his name.  
He would pray before he went before the Holy See, asking for guidance in his upcoming mission, as this would be a new and terrifying experience.  
And as he meditated again in the presence of the Archangel Michael, asking for courage to face a group of students, he couldn't help but smile. God had answered his prayer to not return to England again. With new Regenerators to help control the FREAK outbreaks, other men of God would be able to deal with the Vampire Alucard and his Hellsing Organization.  
God is very, very good to the faithful.  
  
~*~*~*~*~ And translations as promised! I apologize for not being sure if I spelled the Greek correctly on the Kyrie's. We just say it and say it, and I've honestly never seen it written.  
  
Kyrie- the shortened version of the Kyrie Elieson prayer. Our priests seem to use it as a greeting meaning "God be with you."  
  
Ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam- To God, the Joy of my Youth. 


	2. The Recruits

It's Sunday morning as I type this. Can you guess where the inspiration for said fic is coming from? I still don't own Hellsing or the Catholic Church. And I'll still put any Latin translations at the bottom of the page.  
  
~*~In Nomine Patri~*~  
Chapter 2  
  
There were twelve of them now, these new recruits that were to be trained as Holy Assassins and Exorcists. The Holy See had decreed that each continent would send two priests to be trained, and the last two, one from Australia and the other from South America, had arrived just yesterday.  
The first to arrive were the Africans. Father Charles Akimbe, a black Kenyan, and Father Bartholomew Harrison, a white South African, exceeded Anderson's expectations as to what would be coming in to the program. Both men were extremely dedicated to their God and their church, and the level of their physical fitness was already near its peak, so training in martial arts and other battling techniques was coming along perfectly for both men.  
  
Next were the Europeans. Father Stanislaus Pulaski, a Pole was highly favored by the Pope for his uncanny ability to banish demons and heal the sick with miracles sent by God. Anderson tolerated Father Stan, as the jovial man liked to be called, but disliked how the man refused to kill in the name of God. Father Jude van Baalen, a Belgian, did not stand out in any way, though he was not very coordinated, so wielding a blessed blade would most likely be a problem.  
The Asian dioceses had a difficult time deciding on which men would be perfect for the job, and finally decided on one Korean, Father Kim Ya- Seung, and a missionary to India, Father Richard Anno. These men were just as good as the Africans which Anderson favored, but tended to add in Buddist and Hindu beliefs with the Holy Catholic Doctrine to their message of salvation, which Anderson was determined to drive from them.  
The first two from Australia and South America were did not stand out in Anderson's mind. Both Father Stephen Fitzpatrick and Enrico Cortez followed their orders perfectly and never bothered anyone else. Anderson couldn't really complain about them.  
He could complain about the American Priests. Father James King from the diocese of Houston was loud, unruly, drank too much beer, and had been accused of fathering a child or two with women of his parish. He was a good shot, but rarely showed up to practice on time due to a hangover. Father Jonathan McCallister from the Archdiocese of Boston was altogether another mess. Anderson believed that this man was just sent away from his area because of all the accusations of sexual misconduct flying around his archdiocese. It was a pity that the American people were such avid liars, as Father McCallister was an incredibly humble man, but at the same time, Anderson couldn't begin to bring himself to trust or like this man because of the accusations against him. And he was Irish. That should be enough for Anderson to want to end his pathetic existence.  
He looked over the names of his men again, sighing as he mused on the two newest recruits, Father Kenneth Pennington from Sydney, and Miguel Vasquez from Argentina.  
"Father Anderson?" The soft voice of McCallister drifted in to the small dorm-like room. "James has asked me if we were going to go out on missions soon. He's incredibly bored with all this training."  
Alexander Anderson had to use his entire strength of will to not draw one of his blessed blades at that moment so he would not kill the damned meddling American.  
"Father King should ask me this himself, and there is no way I'm sending a loose cannon such as him out to the field yet. Tell him to be more like Father Akimbe and then to ask me that again."  
"Thank you Father. Kyrie."  
Anderson mumbled the farewell to the visiting American, not pleased with the plan that God had set for him recently. It was fun to train these men, but nothing compared to actually vanquishing demons or vampires.  
What he wouldn't give to face Alucard one more time. . . .  
He blessed himself quickly. The devil was everywhere, and at this moment, he was tempting Anderson to return to the island policed by that Protestant sow and her pet demons. Let Hellsing deal with their own infernal problems. The Vatican controlled the rest of the world.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
Every one of the twelve had finally reached a level of training that was acceptable to both God and Anderson, and today, the wild-eyed regenerator decided that his men would be put to the test.  
A new outbreak of FREAKS had occurred in Ireland. And though he did not enjoy the Irish, Anderson would rather save them than watch the country turn in to ghouls and vampires.  
It had been ages since Anderson had donned the traditional vestments of his profession, and today, he had decided on wearing a white robe adorned with beautiful golden designs of the Mysteries of the Faith for the coronation of his Holy Knights.  
He prayed that God would send his power to each of his servants in this mission, for it would be a tragedy to lose any of these men, even Father King.  
The training hall for the Holy Knights of Section XIII was hidden deep underground in one of the many unrecognized catacombs of Rome. While the rest of the city was bathed in the unnatural glow of electric and gas lights, this facility still used torches which had to be lit every morning by the men, and today, they had paid extra special attention to lighting every single torch that they could, for the usually dusky halls were bright with an orange light that filled every corner of the room.  
The twelve men were seated at their dinner table enjoying a meal cooked by Father van Baalen of what looked to be lamb and some sort of greens that must be native to some other land. Anderson refrained from chuckling. The blasphemous thought of this being a new "Last Supper" with himself being like the Lord and Savior would not have been worth explaining to the bunch of religious men.  
"Good evening Brothers." Anderson said with a feral grin, something that every one of the priests gathered knew meant that something that was a test of their faith would be taking place tonight.  
"Ahh, Teacher," van Baalen stood from his place at the table to pull out a chair for Anderson that was by an empty plate. "I would be greatly honored for you to partake in the meal I have prepared."  
"'sgood." King mumbled with a mouthful of lamb. "Jude's the best cook of all us."  
"I am sorry, but I will be unable to partake this food with you tonight." Anderson sighed, not sure how the men would react to finally receiving orders for a real mission to destroy unholy demons. Each had been exorcists in their own right before becoming regenerators, but those were only of minor demons. Vampires and the like were a totally different level of work.  
"What is wrong Teacher?" Akimbe smiled, not sure what to make of this situation.  
"I have a mission for you."  
Every single member of the twelve set their utensils down and stared at their mentor. It had been a year since they had arrived in Rome, and with how Anderson belittled each of them in training, it seemed as if they'd never be allowed to go on real missions.  
"Where is this mission?" McCallister's soft voice broke the silence after a few moments. "And which of us will be going? But most importantly, will you be going?"  
Anderson closed his eyes. He had expected the Holy Knights to jump at the chance to use their new skills in a real situation. The silence of all but one American was enough to terrify him.  
"You are all ready for this mission. God has shown me that it is time for you to take the lead in continuing the work of his Son." Walking over to a world map that hung on the wall, he pointed to the island of Ireland. "In Glasgow, there has been a surge in the number of FREAK vampires in the past month. Reports from the local authorities suggest that there are as many as fifty-seven FREAK vampires and countless ghouls taking over the city. According to the treaty agreed to with the Hellsing Organization, they are supposed to keep watch over those islands that make up the United Kingdom, as well as every outlying island nearby, but two days ago my superiors received a letter from the leader of the Hellsing Organization asking for our help since she is out of men to destroy these demons."  
Van Baalen couldn't help but chuckle. "Miss Hellsing asked for help from US? How totally out of character!"  
"The leader of Hellsing is a woman?" Father Harrison snorted as he began to eat his meal again. "No wonder their organization could not handle such an outbreak!"  
"Wasn't Abram van Hellsing her great grandfather? And wasn't he Catholic? Why would that ignorant woman turn away from God if she planned on leading an organization against demons?" Pulaski mused, distracted by the lore he had heard about the Hellsing family.  
"Brothers." Anderson snapped at the group, turning their attention back to him and their upcoming mission. "I wish to see you complete this mission as a group, but I will travel with you in order to assist if needed." He raised his eyes to the men gathered around the table. "We will leave in an hour. Please be assembled and ready to go at the train station just outside St. Michaels by then. Kyrie. Amen."  
Anderson turned from the group, hoping that each of his men would be up to fulfilling God's work tonight.  
  
~*~*~*~*~ Ok. So no Latin was used in this part that I didn't explain in part one. Please review and tell me what you think! 


	3. Mission

As I begin typing this chapter, there are no reviews on the first two chapters. Now, I'm not usually one to beg, but please, please let me know your opinion of this fic! I'm quite proud of it actually, and I'm curious as to my reader's thoughts. I still don't own Hellsing, nor do I own the Catholic Church. The prayers and Latin incantations I am using are actual prayers ripped from Catholic texts. And translations fall at the bottom of the page yet again.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
"Ne perdas cum impiis, Deus animam meam: et cum viris sanguinum vitam meam." Father Vasquez looked up at the group of men sitting in the train car that was slowly passing through the countryside toward their chosen battlefield. The group of priests had each picked a prayer in the one common language they all shared, Latin, to say before each battle they would head in to from now on.  
Father Anno nodded as he lit a cigarette. "Laudans invocabo Dominum, et ab inimicis meis salvus ero."  
"Amen." The entire group replied. Not a soul in the private car, less Anderson, could keep his composure as the mission became more and more of a reality. They had all faced demons before, but none that were as powerful as the ones they were about to face.  
"God will be with us, for we do His holy work, my brothers." Anderson quietly murmured, hoping at least one of the group would hear his encouragement. This idea of the Vatican's seemed quite terrible right now, as the men were jumping at their own shadows. This mission would turn to disaster at any moment, especially with the trigger happy cowboy King and the traditionalist Harrison named the leaders tonight.  
"Libera nos a malo." Father Akimbe whispered before looking at his teacher, trying to figure out the usually outspoken priest. "Can you sense evil now, or am I just nervous tension?"  
"Aye." Anderson smiled at his secret favorite. "Brothers, let us pray one last time together before the mission truly begins, as we are near the demons as Father Akimbe has pointed out."  
Standing from his seat, Father Anderson hung his head before pulling two blessed blades, then crossing them in front of his chest.  
"Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wiles and wickedness of the devil. Restrain him, O God, we humbly beseech Thee; and do thou, O prince of heavenly host, by the power of God cast into Hell Satan and the other evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the destruction of souls. Amen."  
His prayer was repeated by the men whom had struck the same pose as he did to speak to his patron saint, as the train's brakes squealed to a halt at the station in Dublin.  
"God be with you my brothers!" Anderson called behind the group as the men walked in to the shadows away from their transport. "I will remain here until summoned, but please, I pray you will complete this holy task yourselves!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
Never had Alexander Anderson been as bored as he was tonight. He was hearing the sound of ghouls being destroyed and knew the men he trained were more than prepared for this sort of mission, but his hands were itching to be right along side them, not waiting at a train station as the Vatican had insisted he do this time.  
What had he done to upset the Holy See? He couldn't think of anything, really.  
And why had Hellsing requested help from the likes of not only the Vatican, but of Anderson himself? Every possible scenario for this decision played through his mind as he waited, but none of them seemed logical enough for him to believe.  
"It doesn't mean that my Master will invite you more often or be friendly to your organization, Judas."  
Materializing in front of the half-asleep Anderson was the Hellsing's pet vampire Alucard, still wearing that dreadful red coat and had, and still toting that Jackal weapon.  
"I have no time for distractions, demon." Anderson growled, shoving his hands deep in to his coat pockets, fully restraining himself from drawing even one blade to cut that bloody vampire's head off. "And get out of my thoughts."  
"Or what? You'll kill me?" Alucard just laughed at the thought, following the priest up the stairs of the underground train in to the main hall of the station. "Your precious weapons sting, they don't injure."  
"Alucard, I am under direct orders to not harm you or any bloody demon in your assistance for some reason. Stop trying to provoke me."  
"My, my. Judas has been humbled."  
"Stop calling me Judas!" Anderson screamed as he whipped around, pulling one of his blades and holding it against the vampire's throat, pinning the vampire against the wall. "I swear, you foul demon, that I will not hesitate to return you to the depths of hell! So go ahead and speak."  
Alucard just chuckled. "You've severed my head before, Judas, and you see I still exist."  
And with one mighty blow, the dark haired head of the vampire Alucard lay on the floor next to his body. Before the demon had a chance to start healing itself, Anderson pulled a bottle of holy water and a bottle of communion wine from his coat's pockets, dousing both severed pieces of the vampire until they were soaking in puddles of the two liquids.  
Lighting a match, he tossed it on the pieces of Alucard, praying as he watched the fire spread across the clothing and singe the alabaster flesh. He had done it! He killed the world's strongest vampire! God would favor him higher than anyone else in the world!  
"Dust to dust. Amen."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
The company of Holy Catholic Knights looked a little more ragged than usual as they walked in the early morning hours back to the train station that would return them to Rome. They had been successful in their mission, and even as the sun broke through the clouds to cast its light on the city, bonfires containing the bodies of the ghouls burned the remains so that the foul creatures could never wander this country again to bring about the destruction of so many more souls.  
They were silent as they headed through the city and the entire way to the train. These men needed sleep and a good warm meal, but they had figured their teacher would not wish for them to eat in a recently cleansed city, so half tired and half starved, they entered the platform to board the train that would be coming to take them back to a port city.  
They had not expected to see their teacher sitting on the ground next to a pile of ashes and weeping. This was totally unlike Anderson, but instead of questioning his reasons for shedding tears, Fathers McCallister and Pennington, the two who had seemingly escaped the battle unharmed, helped the blond man to his feet and on to the train after it finally arrived.  
Eating could wait until their return to the mainland of England, and sleep could be put off until after that. Father Anderson was their concern now, and they were determined to find out what had happened to bring about such a drastic change in their mentor.  
  
~*~*~*~*~ Ok! Alucard lovers, send your flames this way via reviews!  
  
Ne perdas..: "Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with men of blood."  
  
Laudans invocabo...: "Praising will I call upon the Lord and I shall be saved from my enemies.  
  
Libera nos a malo: "Deliver us from evil." 


	4. Repercussions warning IxA

Ok. I KNOW that Glasgow is in Scotland and Dublin is in Ireland. Let me please explain a little of the writing process that goes along with this story. As one who's read most of my work would know, each of my fics has a different feel to it, and I'm not just talking of different series, characters, or genres. I'm referring to the tone that the writing style gives off. For example, Disgrace is a very distant, cold fic because of its journal entry chapters. Sell My Old Clothes is a monologue. Betrayal is (while poorly written) a third person omnipotent. (sorry, I'm on my laptop which lacks internet access while in my bedroom otherwise I'd look up a better fic of mine to compare to.) As I tend to not write in one certain style, the inspiration and daily routines of writing each fic fits each one's personality. In Nomine Patri goes like this: Once I have laid down in bed and pulled my laptop in front of me, I turn on a reading lamp and reread my list of notes. It contains things such as the names of all my characters, general idea of what is to happen in the fic (oh, the spoilers people have found out by raiding my bedroom), places where they will be traveling, where they are from, and other random things that are helpful to this fic. (sketches of weird traits of characters, etc) Next I open the highest numbered chapter to see where I ended, and then I decide how to start a chapter, and just run with it until I am satisfied. So basically, since I write in the early morning hours of 1-3 AM, I probably just gave a glance over to my paper, saw both "Glasgow" and "Ireland" on it in the same general area, and without a second thought, submitted it, for I do not believe in over-proofing a story. It makes me second guess what I have written. The other complaint I've been getting is my Latin conjugation. Now, I'm sure you're probably right, but my loose translation of things is just to give a general idea to the non-Latin speaking public of what is meant. And besides, my 'loose translation' is actually being taken from a Catholic Deacon's Latin/English prayer book, which is sitting alongside my laptop and list of notes. So maybe I should just go bitch to the Vatican about their inaccuracies. Sorry for the rant, just figured I'd clear some things up.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
"Father Anderson," Enrico Maxwell, the figurehead of all Section XIII, glared across his desk at the now solemn man sitting in the hard- backed chair used to make sure the one receiving a verbal reprimand was at his most uncomfortable, "It is not my opinion that you have done wrong with destroying the Vampire Alucard, but," He looked over his glasses, dark eyes boring deep in to the soul of the younger man, "when you are ordered NOT to interfere with Hellsing whatsoever and you kill their number one field agent, you must atone for your sins to all involved. Miss Hellsing has requested that you be discharged and exiled or just destroyed. The Holy See is asking for you to be stripped of your position and titles. I am trying as hard as I can to convince our Pope to not be so harsh with his punishment, as well as to convince him to tell Miss Hellsing that you were only acting on instinct so she may feel a little better about losing her pet."  
Anderson could not bring his eyes to meet his superior's. "May God forgive me." It was all he could whisper as he stood from the chair and headed toward the door. "What is to happen to the men under my command?"  
Maxwell shrugged, seeming bored with the situation. "They will be sent to their home continents to battle for God."  
Anderson just nodded. He had been expecting this day would come as soon as the men proved themselves on a mission, but he had hoped he could have them train a little longer, as he could use the comradery more than ever before.  
"You may stay in your quarters until you receive the decree sent down by the Holy See. Please see to it that you do not cause any more problems by acting on the base temptations that Satan sets before you, my brother." Maxwell smiled solemnly as he watched Anderson's unusually placid expression falter between hurt and anger as the words settled deep in his mind, and finally returned to a subservient downward gaze as he stood to leave.  
"God be with you Father." He whispered as he reached the doorway, holding on to the trim as he turned to walk to his quarters, the dismal place he would be punished for the rest of his days.  
For the first time in his life, Alexander Anderson regretted every moment of time spent in the service of his God and Faith.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
Integral Hellsing sat deep in her chair as she smoked a cigar, reveling in the pleasure the phone conversation with the head of Section XIII had given her. The bloody fool actually believed that his Holy Weapon actually could kill Alucard. The whole situation would be downright comical if the fact that there were now more regenerators on the loose had been proven.  
"A good evening to you, Miss Hellsing." The apparition that melted from the ceiling chuckled in his mocking way as the vampire Alucard became more and more solid, until he was finally sitting on the edge of his master's desk, looking over his Jackal, seemingly awaiting his next mission. "Are there any more freaks to take care of? Or can I start helping Paladins disappear?"  
"You are NOT to go anywhere near the Catholics!" Integral screamed, slamming her hands on his thighs, making sure to dig her thumbnails deep in to the skin through her spotless white gloves, assuring his attention. "They believe you to be gone, and I'd prefer if it stays that way!"  
Alucard couldn't help but smirk. His master was furious, and in her loss of emotional control, she'd allowed herself to be vulnerable, and if she wouldn't banish him for an eternity to the dungeons, Alucard would love to grab the back of her head and force her in to a kiss, perhaps even more.  
  
"What is so bloody hilarious!" She screamed again, this time moving within an inch of his face, fingers digging deeper in to his thighs, and her breath hot against his face.  
Master was adorable when she was furious.  
"Get off me." He finally decided to disapparate through her desk and in to her chair, allowing Integral to fall face first on to her desk, her glasses falling from her nose and cracking on the hardwood surface. "I will have my fun with the regenerators. You will not stop me." He lowered his glasses, amber eyes boring deep in to her soul, prying her to believe his opinion. "And the Police Girl will come with me."  
And in an instant, Integral Wingates Hellsing was alone in her office; the wonderful feeling of triumph over the Vatican had now been replaced with a sense of dread for what Alucard was going to do to their organization.  
  
~*~*~*~*~ Ok. . . . sorry for the delay in posting for those who read this thing. I'll try to get more done quickly.  
  
Mew 


	5. Boston

Have I mentioned that I love Father Anderson? I really wish he was my parish priest instead of the bloody bastard we have. Father Azazael, as I've so lovingly our parish priest, would be considered a traitor to the faith, and well, *points* Demon! Father Alex! Get the Demon! Sorry, I must amuse myself with my sick humor that no one else understands besides, well, me. Maybe ChanceTheChase does, but she doesn't seem to be posting around here too much. Then again, she's Catholic too and has a priest that molested little boys. *evil grin* So by the introduction, expect a weird chapter. And review. It makes Mew happy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Though his Church had forsaken him, Alexander Anderson silently protested the announcement that he would be sent to a parish outside of his home continent to become the head parish priest of a church in crisis. He continued prayer vigils every morning and evening inside St. Peter's, murmuring the words in both Latin and English, asking his God to not turn a deaf ear to this humble servant, but that if this were to be a test of his faith as so many Biblical figures and martyrs had to cope with, then he prayed to have the strength of Job, Peter, Paul, or any of the others he had learned to imitate in his life and his work.  
But as his orders were given to head to a small parish outside of Boston where the former priest had been jailed for unthinkable acts of sodomy, Anderson knew that God had other plans for him. Perhaps he would be the salvation of the new Babylon. He only prayed that he could be such a vessel.  
"Father Anderson?" A young priest stated as he walked behind the wild- eyed blond, kneeling behind him so that he could speak softly in Anderson's ear. "You received a telegram from a Father Johnny McCallister from the Archdiocese you are to be transferred to. I did not want to enter your quarters without permission," the young priest pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Anderson, "so I brought it here. Do not be angry, please."  
"May God Bless You." Anderson whispered as he took the envelope, standing from the pew after blessing himself, and then genuflecting to the Sacred Host that was on display during Holy Hours before leaving the chapel.  
Quickly returning to his room, Anderson shut the door, making sure to lock it so no one could see him if indeed McCallister had written about what he wished. Tearing open the envelope, he scanned the words quickly to see if there was any hope of hearing about his men and their accomplishments, but the telegram was simply business, explaining that Anderson was taking over for McCallister's senior pastor, and that it had been Father McCallister himself that had requested Father Anderson to come to Boston when the word of his banishment from Vatican City spread through the ranks of the Catholic Knights and beyond.  
Perhaps the American did have some heart and sense about him. It was truly a pity that he had to be caught up in the scandal surrounding the Boston Archdiocese, for McCallister could have had a chance at becoming a Bishop or Cardinal, or something more than just a common Knight.  
So tomorrow, Anderson would bid farewell to Europe for an undetermined amount of time to enter a crumbling archdiocese in one of the most scandal-filled sections of the world.  
He thanked God that McCallister would be with him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Father Alex!" A young boy trotted up to the priest, still in his Catholic School uniform from the long day at school. "Sister Marguerite told me that you would be the best person to interview for what it's like to serve in the church since ya lived in another country for a long time! We hafta do a report in our religion class about different jobs in the church, and I thought that since you worked in Vatican City, you'd be really cool to talk to."  
Alexander Anderson smiled, walking in front of the student to the stairs that led up to the St. Michaels, sitting down in plain view of the street and passersby, something that every priest had been told to do in the Boston area. There would be no more scandal, or so they hoped, by doing this.  
"Of course Christopher. I'd be happy to tell you about my service to the Vatican." Anderson watched as the boy sat down on the stairs as well, pulling out a notebook and pen. "What exactly would you like to know?"  
Christopher scribbled down Father Anderson's name on a piece of paper that Sister Marguerite had obviously given every student for a guideline for what to ask the clergy member they interviewed. "Well, what made you want to become a priest?"  
"From a young age I wanted to go in to the service of my God. My mother encouraged me to do this, as it brought honor to our family, but I have always felt the need to spread the word of Christ to those who needed to be healed."  
The boy wrote down only parts of what Anderson had said. "Ok, and, well, this isn't on here, but how did you get to actually work in Vatican City?"  
"God chose me to be an exorcist. It was his doing that I worked in Vatican City and around the world."  
"YOU were an exorcist!?!" Christopher set the notebook down, leaning closer to Anderson, obviously excited to hear such news. "Didja see people's heads spin around and hear voices and stuff!?!"  
Anderson sighed, closing his eyes. "That was how movies showed it Christopher. It is much worse than that, and it is best for the rest of the world to not know what demons are truly like" he leaned close to Christopher, growling as he lowered his voice, "because they will make those weak in their faith go insane."  
"So demons are real?"  
Anderson stood up, glaring down at the boy, fingering the silver crucifix around his neck. "Yes. Go interview someone else son."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The afternoon did not seem to show signs of ending, since as soon as Christopher had left the church stairs, he told his friends about Anderson's former job, so practically every student of St. Michaels Catholic Academy had come to the rectory where the parish priests lived wanting to hear tales of the expulsion of demons from around the world.  
"I didn't think it would cause such a fuss to mention that I was in the Knights."  
McCallister clapped his hand on Anderson's back. "Alex, please tell me that you of all people didn't tell the children about the Knights."  
Anderson smirked, the first semblance of a smile to cross his lips the entire day. "I know better than to say THAT, John. I said I was an exorcist, just like you do."  
McCallister sighed, backing away from his former teacher. "I trust the students will forget about this in a week. Just don't bring any tales of what you did before up in their presence again."  
Anderson just nodded, turning from the window to lie in his bed. Perhaps God would at least grant him peaceful dreams tonight.  
He prayed that sleep could drive the pain from his soul.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Integral Hellsing sat at her desk in her oversized office, upset that Alucard had not once come to her tonight though she had called for him many times. She had been waiting for six hours. Six! He would pay as soon as he returned. . . . .  
The young woman snapped back to reality with a start as she heard her telephone ring, quickly grabbing the receiver and placing it to her ear. "Yes?"  
"Miss Hellsing," The drawling Italian accented voice of Enrico Maxwell was even sharper than usual, causing Integral to wait to hear what he actually had to say instead of hanging up immediately. "Your pet Vampire apparently has a liking for the blood of the Vatican. He killed Father Stanislaus Polaski by draining his blood, then shooting him as a common ghoul."  
"Father Polaski should not be hunting vampires in England, Maxwell." She snapped back, upset that the Vatican had not warned her of their arrival in her territory. "If he was in my country, Alucard had every right to do with him as he pleased."  
"Father Polaski was in Belgium when he was murdered by your monster. I have eyewitnesses and photographs to prove that it was your pet Alucard on the scene of the crime, so do not play innocent with me, Miss Hellsing."  
Integral closed her eyes as she held the phone to her ear. There could be a million explanations as to why a priest was killed and as for why Alucard happened to be on the scene, but as she checked her email upon the instruction of Father Maxwell, the pictures were obviously not tampered with, and it was obviously Alucard draining blood from a victim in priest's clothing.  
"How much will it take to compensate his parish?"  
Maxwell chuckled; Integral could plainly hear the laughter through the phone. "Compensation? My dear, Alucard deserves a punishment worse than that of Father Anderson. I believe you asked for death as the extreme measure, and we allowed for exile to a parish outside the continent. I will leave Anderson in exile as long as you return Alucard to the dungeons and lock him up again, never to be released, but I would prefer death, as he is an aberration to God's work."  
She sighed. "I will call him back home."  
"Integral," She stopped partway through the motion to hang up the phone as she heard the voice through the speaker yet again. "Remember that if another priest dies according to vampiric hands, I will be forced to bring Anderson back to active duty."  
The little Hellsing growled as she heard the dead phone signal hum after Maxwell placed the phone back on the receiver on his end. Alucard had killed a regenerator, to which she was actually proud of the vampire, but to upset the Vatican yet again was not a good idea. Not now anyway. She couldn't deal with Anderson without Alucard near her.  
"That blasted vampire had better get his ass back here. . . ." 


	6. Orders

Chapter 6! This is quite a fun little piece to write, so I hope you're all enjoying it.  
  
I still don't own a blasted thing except the priests of the Knights that I made up.  
  
And as always, review so that Mew knows what's going on in the minds of her dear readers.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It had been just after lunch when Father McCallister entered the classroom of Father Alexander Anderson's high school Theology studies to pull the former Knight away from the students to tell him of the death of Father Stanislaus Polaski.  
Needless to say, the grief-stricken Anderson cancelled his classes for the rest of the day, as well as for the next day.  
Through bitter tears wept in his office, he prayed that Polaski's soul be granted immediate access to heaven, for that any sins that the priest could have committed must have been cleansed during the bloodletting performed by the demon Alucard.  
Yes, Polaski was a martyr, and Anderson would petition the Vatican to make the Pole a saint. He was certain the children at his parish would sign anything he gave to them, as would the adult parishioners. The usually liberal New Englanders seemed to have taken a liking to his fire-and- brimstone sermons, and while other parishes were decreasing in numbers, St. Michael's was the largest growing place of worship in the region, giving Anderson more power than he had ever known before in the service of the Vatican.  
So even though he had prayed for none of this to happen, Anderson loved how God worked in his life again, giving him recognition for deeds done in His service.  
But the news that Polaski had been martyred was seemingly lessened, as when he checked his email that evening, a note from Father Enrico Maxwell had arrived informing Anderson that if his former adversary Alucard made one more move against the Catholic church, he would be recalled to his post at the Vatican and pardoned for his supposed sins, since it was obvious that Alucard was back, no matter what that English swine said differently.  
And as the days passed, the number of correspondences from Rome continued to increase, as vampiric activity on the European continent seemed to be increasing once again.  
Anderson was about to lose everything he cherished yet again, and that was not how God was supposed to work.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Father Jonathan McCallister's calm voice drifted through the confessional screen that divided the two priests, for Anderson enjoyed hiding in a confession booth when he needed time to meditate. Though his parishioners adored his sermons, most were afraid to speak of their sins to the wild-eyed priest, so it was obvious as to why a confessional was his best place to hide from the world.  
Anderson sighed, his shoulders visibly slumping as McCallister watched the silhouette across from him. "I wasn't able to expel Alucard to Hell, yet the whole reason I came here was, well, for sending Alucard back to Hell. I'm more hurt by the news that he's back than anything else John. And then he killed Polaski. He killed a bloody man of God and he feels no remorse. It sickens me to tears."  
McCallister sighed, wishing to hug the other man, but because of the screen, he did not move, less to fold his hands in his lap. "Alucard is more powerful than a regular demon Alex. I know you've fought him before, and he's left you without limbs, and you've left him without a head, and you've both recovered from such injuries. Maybe he can't be killed by traditional means. Or maybe he just can't return to Hell because he has been banished."  
Anderson shook his head in disgust. McCallister was defending Alucard! How incredibly dreadful! "Every demon can be returned to its proper place in the order of things, and this does include Alucard. I will again have to ask for His guidance again so that I can be a vessel through which God's work flows," he sighed. "For I will be returning to the Vatican within the week, since Integral Hellsing has not yet been able to give us the whereabouts of her pet vampire."  
It was McCallister's turn to be speechless.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"The situation is far worse than we could have ever expected." Father Maxwell sighed as he looked over the reports sent to him from across the world. Of the original thirteen regenerators, only six were still alive and in service to the Catholic church. "It appears that the Order of the Dragon has been revived by its former master, and Miss Hellsing has refused to comment on the situation, saying that England is not having any such problems with her undead. Naturally, we believe that England's undead are masterminding this effort with the support of the Hellsing Organization behind them."  
"Aye, sir." Anderson seemed bored with the news. He had known that as soon as Alucard found the weakness of a regenerator that he would spread the words of how to kill them to other vampires around the world. Asia and South America had lost all of their Holy Knights, along with the death of Polaski, which started it all, the torturing of Akimbe, which had triggered Anderson's fury the most of all the men he had mentored and trained in his image, and finally the loss of Father King who was killed by the hands of a common FREAK, albeit a five year old specimen. "Let me go to England alone. I will find out how involved Hellsing is with this mess."  
Maxwell shook his head. "Alex, we cannot risk sending you on missions, and you know this. You are far too. . ." the elder looked upward, searching for the tactful way of describing Anderson's 'kill-first-question- later' style of working. "reckless for the Vatican to send on missions anymore. Fathers van Baalen, Harrison, and McCallister have been called upon to take care of the Hellsing problem."  
Anderson growled, slamming his hands down on his superior's desk. "Not a one of those men could stand toe to toe with Hellsing's pet and survive! Do you want to lose any more men, or do you believe that you can just create more regenerators to do your bidding!?!"  
"Calm down Father!" Maxwell shouted back, his features hardening as he stared at the younger priest across the desk from him. "If more regenerators are needed, then yes, we will create more regenerators for the service of God. And in order to have them trained properly, YOU will be needed to train these men as you trained the other men." Maxwell folded his arms across his chest, glaring out the window of his office. "Though I suggest that you train the next group more thoroughly about how to stay alive. These past recruits were quite, soft."  
Anderson bowed his head, speaking through clenched teeth. "May I please say that none of the men will ever be an equal to me or a demon like Alucard, for they are just cheap imitations. God granted me my powers, not some science experiment. They are the holy equivalent of a FREAK vampire!"  
"God granted the men their powers as well!"  
The two men continued to stare at each other, obviously upset by what the other had just said. With a quick turn on his heel, Anderson left the office and returned to his quarters, ready to instruct his three former students on the best course of action to take against Hellsing.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
This had been the most humiliating day of Father Anderson's life. Not only had he broken the rules set forth by Enrico Maxwell by leaving the Vatican to go to England with the three regenerators, he had been forced to wear a nun's habits to leave the city without being noticed.  
Once the group had safely reached the heart of French territory, Anderson changed to his normal clothes, but still did not speak with the other three priests sharing the train cabin with him during that trip, even when McCallister and van Baalen tried as hard as they could to initiate conversation about the high school classes Anderson had been teaching in Boston or the state of affairs of the American churches, since van Baalen was curious about the scandals.  
Upon reaching the English coast in Portsmouth, Anderson's entire attitude shifted from somber to that of a raving lunatic. He couldn't keep a smile from crossing his lips, though his eyes were darting in every direction, focusing on objects long enough when he heard a sound to make certain of what he was seeing, then he began to scan the area yet again, as if he knew something or someone was watching them.  
Father Harrison had become unnerved by the behavior, and stepped out to another train car for a cigarette, but returned the car where Anderson and the others stayed for the rest of the journey to London proper as soon as he had finished.  
The four Catholic Knights stepped onto the platform of King's Cross looking like a group of bounty hunters from comic books as they marched in line with weapons brandished and Anderson just slightly in the lead, for he had told the men he felt the presence of a Hellsing vampire in the station. They were ready to begin the battle to purge the undead monsters from the world.  
With a smirk, Anderson pointed at Lieutenant Seras Victoria, the younger of Hellsing's vampires, as she stood near a magazine stand, buying a copy of the daily newspaper's early morning edition. Each of the priests fanned out in the nearly deserted station, surrounding the vampire without her realizing what was happening.  
"In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished to eternal damnation. Amen."  
Seras yelped when she heard the familiar accent coming from behind her, jumping around to see Father Anderson leaning down to look her in the eyes, an action he had told his men never to do if they wanted to survive in the presence of a vampire.  
"Your motto is quite a serviceable prayer, Hellsing demon. It is a pity you didn't learn how to pray before you were made into the image of Lucifer himself."  
The other three priests moved closer to the girl, crossing their blessed blades to defend against whatever attack she decided to use against them. They were ready, and more than anxious, for a fight with one of the true undead.  
To their surprise, Seras Victoria stood motionless, gasping for breath as blood tears streaked down her cheeks.  
"Master said you were in America."  
Anderson smirked, grabbing her arm tightly to drag her outside where day would be breaking in just a few minutes. McCallister and van Baalen followed, but Harrison remained downstairs to try to convince any witnesses to what had just occurred that the woman was a traitor to the Vatican, and she needed to be returned for her trial.  
"The Lord of the Flies is a liar. Even a Protestant sow should realize that fact."  
Seras began to struggle, trying to break from Anderson's steel-tight grasp so she could draw her gun and get away from him at least. Instead of giving her room to break free as he usually did, for he enjoyed the hunt most of all, he tightened his hand on her arm, eliciting a scream of pain from the young vampire.  
"Please, let me go! I'll do anything for you tomorrow night, but day is coming, and I can't very well be out in the sun!"  
"But dear," van Baalen smirked as he moved closer, leveling his blade at her throat. "Didn't you realize that is the best way to return a demon like yourself to Hell? Demons cannot stand the light, as it purifies them and returns them to God's good graces."  
Seras bit her lip, knowing these would be her last moments of life as an undead creature. She was certain that Sir Integra would be happy to be rid of one vampire, for she knew how upset the head of Hellsing had been when Alucard brought her over into the darkness.  
"Don't think this is personal Seras." Anderson purred in her ear as he held his arms tight around her waist. "This is just a way to cut off the hand that is that keeps tempting the world to sin."  
The scream was horrifying as the sun's light penetrated the cloudy English sky, for as soon as the light touched the exposed skin of the young vampire, it began to decay and finally to burn to ash. The red-haired girl crumbled in Anderson's hands, and when there was no more of Seras Victoria but a pile of ashes and a police uniform, Anderson reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out a regular sized Vatican flag, for he would want Hellsing to know that Section XIII could still pose a threat to their unholy alliance of blueblooded bitches and preternatural beings.  
"Spread the ashes." He ordered the men as he walked away carrying the folded flag that was wrapped around a Hellsing police dress suit. "And say last rights for the girl whose body the demons decided to inhabit. Seras was a good girl until her fateful encounter with death. She may ask for absolution once she is in heaven, if her kind can even make it that far."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
If the news of Alucard's supposed demise had been the highlight of her working with the Vatican, receiving a Vatican City flag with a Hellsing uniform and a note explaining who the uniform belonged to and what happened to the wearer, was enough to send Integral Hellsing into another tirade about the corrupt and archaic ways of the Catholics.  
She never even bothered to remember that it was her vampires that started the deaths and renewed hatred between the organizations, but only that four priests slaughtered an innocent young woman as she waited at the train station for a ride back to her home after spending an evening at work.  
She would make sure the priests had been severely punished when they reached Alucard's territory.  
"Good evening Miss Hellsing." Integral looked over to the door of her office, seeing Alucard leaning against it to watch her continue the never- ending rant about the Vatican. "It really is a shame that the Police Girl allowed herself to be taken down by rookie regenerators. And to be burned in the sun." He just smirked as he sat on Integral's desk, looking out the window at the moon. "That had to be a painful way to die. I truly pity her."  
But Integral hadn't been paying attention to Alucard's typical long- winded speeches he liked to give when he entered her office. Instead, she had rummaged through her desk drawers, tossing a stack of papers to Alucard before lighting a cigar.  
"They plan on training more regenerators Alucard."  
"I will kill them just as easily as before master."  
Integral shook her head. "Those damned Catholics are trying to be like the bloody Americans and force their way upon everyone, and those damned regenerators are their way of doing it. You need to kill Anderson to make them stop."  
Alucard just sighed in relief, for he had been silently hoping his master would give him those orders. "I will make you proud, Miss Hellsing."  
And with a chuckle, Alucard left Integral alone in her office. 


	7. Judas

Chapter 7! I never thought this one would go past four chapters, but as usual, my fics tend to prove me wrong. Thank you to all the reviewers out there who liked this weird little jump in to the Catholic side of Hellsing, and it's time to answer comments that caught my attention as I looked over the reviews.  
Kamikaze the Twooth, well, I'll just try to explain the thoughts behind my last chapter. Anderson had been humbled when he received the orders to train the men in his image, and then he was basically excommunicated from the Vatican by being sent to the parish in Boston. So he was trying to imitate the servants of God in the Bible by keeping true to the exact words of the faith and by being the most humble and gracious servant he could be, for then perhaps God would restore him to his former position in Section XIII. To me, this isn't far fetched of an idea for a religious fanatic like Anderson.  
Then there's the sudden mood shift in the middle of chapter 6. I attribute that to the old lingering bloodlust that Anderson was missing from not being active in his duties with the Vatican. This is also brought to him in part of knowing that a large number of his students died, including his favorite (Akimbe), and the kindest man he had ever met (Pulaski). A fanatic like Anderson would want revenge (though it's a sin) because 'an eye for an eye, a hand for a hand' etc, and the fact that as he said to Seras, it was a way of ridding the world from one of its temptations.  
And finally, Seras's death. Seeing as how she wasn't killed by a blade before in the series, sunlight was my next idea as to how I could kill her, so taking her out in to the sun and holding her there would be deadly for a fledgling like herself, in this story's world. And as for why I had Anderson kill her off? It's that revenge motive again. Anderson sees himself as ridding the world of a demon, AND he gets to hurt Hellsing and Alucard at the same time. He'd be a fool not to kill Seras when thought of that way.  
Hope that makes some sense Kamikaze and everyone else who thinks I'm a Seras-basher. ^_^  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
"This is going to be an all-out war." Alexander Anderson smiled as he paced continuously before the three priests in the hotel room with him, gloved hands folded behind his back. "Hellsing is still understaffed, but they only have one vampire in their service now. If the four of us can attack him at the same time, I do believe we can finally send his demon back to the bowels of Hell."  
"I still think we should call for our brothers that still remain in the service of the Knights." McCallister sighed as he folded his hands in his lap in order to still his nervous finger drumming against his leg. "We will need all the help we can get if we are going after THE vampire."  
Anderson halted abruptly, turning on his heel to glare through dull glasses at the American that had just made the wretched comment, degrading the skills of the Catholic Knights.  
"God is the only ally we need. It is He who lends us His Spirit to command demons back to Hell." With a smirk, Anderson turned to stare out the window of the hotel room, watching the grey sky above the cathedral that they had chosen to stay near during their tenure in the United Kingdom. "Besides, what could Fitzpatrick and Pennington possibly do to help?"  
The other priests turned their eyes from their teacher, remaining silent as to not agitate Father Anderson any more. They had apparently known him when he was considered sane, for the man that paced before them, speaking of their new orders and how they would exterminate the demon Alucard and rid the world of the Protestant whore known as Integral Hellsing, was definitely not the same man that had been their instructor.  
So the men just listened, terrified of what would happen when Anderson decided to take his plan into battle.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Jude van Baalen blessed himself for the thirty-eighth time this night as he begged God for protection before peering around a corner of the Hellsing Manor's halls as he quietly and unobtrusively made his way toward the security system center of the building. As the only priest of the order that was considered technologically advanced, it was his honor and duty to be the first inside the manor house and to be the one that would give his brothers the time needed to complete their self-granted mission.  
He prayed that every one of them would be able to go home safe and unharmed, even Father Anderson.  
Picking up a silent jog, Father Jude pulled his blessed blades from his coat as he entered the empty security center, his eyes wide from the shock of not having to confront a soul about why he wanted to take over the cameras.  
Then it hit him. Hellsing knew that the priests were coming.  
"St. Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be-"  
Laughter, deep, sadistic laughter was filling the room as he prayed, and not wanting his brothers to enter the manor house, but knowing they would be easier prey if they waited outside if he could not follow through with his mission, Father Jude rushed over to the computers and began hacking his way in to the security system.  
"our safeguard against the wiles and wickedness of the devil. Restrain him, O God, we humbly beseech Thee;"  
"Praying to one of the Catholic idols Judas?" The mocking laughter came again after the comment as the room grew increasingly colder, but Father Jude continued his hacking and prayers.  
"and do thou, O prince of the heavenly host-"  
Jude van Baalen froze as he felt a marble-like hand placed upon his shoulder just before feeling the barrel of a gun placed against the back of his head. He knew that he was a regenerator, but how would he ever survive a bullet to his brain?  
"I would suggest you start praying, Catholic, but as you can see, it doesn't work."  
Jude just nodded, still feeling the gun against his skull. Could Father Anderson survive this kind of injury? He wasn't too certain that even the teacher could handle that kind of punishment. In his native Flemish, he began the Rosary as he closed his eyes awaiting the warm embrace of God's love that would be his upon death.  
Alucard nudged him toward the console. "Continue with your work Judas. I want to have a little fun tonight."  
Keeping with his Rosary, and making sure to use the Sorrowful Mysteries inbetween the sets of prayers he quietly spoke, the Belgian priest quickly finished turning the security system off, the signal to his fellow members of the Catholic Knights that they could easily enter the building undetected.  
And with a smirk, Alucard cocked the trigger of his Jackal as van Baalen finished his work, shooting him at point blank range in the back of his head before grabbing him around the waist and draining his blood.  
Granted, the method took too long for killing regenerators in this method to be considered effective, but at least killed them because by taking their blood, the nanomachines left their bodies, leaving them quite injury prone.  
Picking up the body, Alucard dragged it near the stairway so that Anderson and the others would know that they had been set up.  
"The moon is quite beautiful tonight." Alucard just chuckled as he dropped the body while he looked out the window at the reddened sky. 


	8. Warning blood, gore, fun stuff like that

I was trying for 10 chapters, I think I'm gonna get 8. Close enough, eh?  
  
For the reviewer (gah, can't remember names and too lazy to look it up) who said that I said Anderson got his powers thru the nanomachines.. Maybe I didn't write clear enough, or maybe I did say that. I don't remember. But what I meant to be trying to show from the scene with Maxwell and Anderson was that though the others could be replaced, Anderson couldn't, so that would mean he was a lil more special than the others. So in this fic, I basically assumed that everyone would assume that Anderson's powers are just God-given.  
  
Review this please to let me know how I handled this fic as a whole. Thanks ^_^  
  
And this is take two of the posting of this chapter. The ending just sorta.. sucked last time. I apologize. I honestly didn't mean to post something without saving it/removing my notes with which to amuse myself.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Father Alexander Anderson's smile widened as he saw the blinking lights on his hand held tracking device go out as van Baalen corrupted the security system. This would be too easy, a regret that Anderson had when he finally realized how well-thought out this newest plan against Hellsing had been. There would be no challenge, but at least there would be finality to this matter of Catholic against Protestant with the vampire hunting.  
"Come on." He whispered to Fathers Harrison and McCallister, who obediently followed the wild-eyed blond toward the manor house. "You know your duties. I expect to see them completed in the name and glory of the Father."  
No reply came from the priests as they followed- both were too frightened to object to his suicide mission.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing crossed her legs under her desk as she sat in the leather chair in her office, wondering where in creation her soldiers and technicians were when this widespread power outage infected every part of the manor, why they hadn't gotten the generators running after ten minutes, and most importantly, why no one had thought of telling her what was going on.  
She had even called for Alucard, and the vampire had laughed about going hunting tonight, so she knew he would be distracted by the first strong scent of blood that crossed his path.  
Picking up the telephone that remained on her desk, which to her surprise still worked, she dialed a familiar extension, hoping that of all people, Walter could at least come sit with her and explain what was happening inside her house and listen to her plan the ways to punish those who did not fulfill their duty to her.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Father Bartholomew Harrison, though already exhausted from the lack in endurance training he had experienced when he was moved to an intercity parish in Johannesburg, reveled in the kills as he launched his blessed blades through the hearts and necks of Hellsing soldiers that had been foolish enough to cross his path. One by one, the soldiers fell, and the priest only sustained minor injuries that continued to heal as he continued to battle, until the entire area was free of Hellsing soldiers.  
"Dust to dust. Amen."  
Kicking the limp body of the nearest soldier, Harrison strode toward where he heard a telephone ringing. Of course, whoever was on the other end of the line would know that he definitely should not be in the manor, as his accent was a dead giveaway in a land of British and Cockney, but he was quite curious to know who was trying to contact the person that should be in this office, and more importantly, who did the office belong to and why was that person not there.  
"Hello?"  
"Walter! Where are you!?!"  
Harrison smirked as he heard the voice on the other end of the line. Sir Hellsing was furious with the lack of control she was now facing at the hands of the Catholics, if she even realized what had hit her Organization in the first place.  
"Walter! Answer me!"  
"Walter's not here." Harrison drawled, certain that he heard a gasp from the other end of the line. "But if you'd like to leave a message, I'll be glad to deliver it when I find him."  
"Who are you and what are you doing in my house." Integral's voice had become flat with her annoyance. This was turning in to a situation like the Valentine Brothers.  
"I am just a simple man of the cloth, dear little Hellsing."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Integral stared down at the phone, uncertain of what she should do now. The man that was on the other end of this conversation definitely wasn't Anderson. The man sounded almost African, but why on earth would an African priest be in Britain, and more importantly, why would he be in Hellsing Manor?  
Then, it hit her.  
The Catholics wanted revenge for their fallen priests.  
"Shit." Slamming the receiver down, Integral pulled her gun from her mahogany desk drawer making sure that it was loaded. If Alucard was out hunting, and Walter was missing in action, it was up to her to solve this problem.  
She turned toward her door, moving silently in case any of the men had been waiting for her to exit the room, and with her gun in the lead, Integral Hellsing moved slowly from her office down the hall toward Walter's quarters. Whoever this African priest was, he would be sent to Hell now. No one trespassed on her property, ever.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
His normally perfectly kept black hair hung around his face as he sprinted through the halls of Hellsing Manor, as Walter had been asleep when the assault began on the mansion. The batteries of his alarm clock must have run out earlier in the day, and Sir Integra must not have needed his services either.  
If not for Alucard waking him up abruptly, Walter would have remained in bed, because he did not hear any commotion upstairs, though Alucard said that the Vatican had sent in a few priests to put an end to the association.  
Alucard would be getting type O blood for the next decade if this was a trick..  
But then, standing about twenty meters from him, a man in a black trench coat holding a blessed blade stood praying over the bodies of Hellsing troops that he had killed before they could kill him.  
Walter stopped, leaning against the wall to stay out of the line of sight of the priest. What was he doing to the men now? They were dead. . . .  
The older man narrowed his eyes as he continued listening; the wires that he used in his fights glistened and snaked from his fingertips. The priest was praying for the dead men. The men which he had killed.  
How incredibly strange!  
This man was nothing like Alexander Anderson! He actually seemed to not want to kill innocents in the name of his church! Maybe, just maybe, the Angel of Death would be able to convince him to drop his weapons and leave the mansion without causing more harm.  
"Father, I do not wish to harm you or anyone else in your association."  
Clutching his blessed blades tight, McCallister turned to see the Hellsing retainer standing down the hall from him, and the man appeared to be unarmed. "Why should I believe you?"  
Walter smiled, the gesture was sincere, before stepping forward with hands raised in surrender. "Because you are praying for the souls of those men that they may go to heaven. You don't want to kill, do you Father?"  
McCallister lowered his blades, knowing that he would regret this action if he was not immediately killed, even though he believed he deserved to die for slaughtering the men on the ground around him.  
"No, I don't want to kill anyone. I just wanted to be an exorcist."  
Walter nodded, grabbing the priest's arm as he trotted toward Integral's office, knowing his master would want him by her side, especially if Alucard was off fighting Anderson and however many other priests were inside. "Stay with me and you'll be safe. You'll have to leave your faith for this, but how could a man such as you be able to stand the thought of the murders that you've committed in the Name of the Father?"  
Keeping pace with Walter, McCallister shook his head, tucking his blades back inside his long coat. "How could you know how I feel?"  
Walter didn't turn around, but continued their trek through the halls. "That is the reason why I must repent to this very day."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Anderson was furious. Alucard had not shown his demonic face once during this entire raid of the Hellsing Manor. Was he out tonight? Surely, the vampire didn't leave his home for extended periods of time.  
But Anderson smirked as another thought entered his mind. Alucard was afraid of the priests, because they had done their research and would banish him back to hell this very night.  
And of course, the demon would be a coward, not wanting to be returned to the fires and torment that awaited the wicked. But worst of all, Anderson could not see the look on Alucard's face when the priest finally won their feud.  
Therefore, the next best option would be to take out the leadership of the Hellsing Organization, and he knew exactly where Miss Hellsing would be waiting and watching for the little event to be over while she commanded men in her name to dispose of the intruders and so-called rubbish that plagued the world. Since her vampire was missing and the female was gone, there was only Walter he had to worry about, and he was certain that the little wire wisps would not do much damage.  
He quietly moved through the halls and past the place where van Baalen's body rested, not even giving his fellow Knight a second glance or offering of a prayer for the departed's soul. It wasn't time to mourn the dead.  
To Anderson's delight, Miss Hellsing was coming toward him, and though her gun was drawn, she was looking over her shoulder, as he could hear footsteps coming closer toward both Miss Hellsing and him.  
How bloody perfect. Harrison and McCallister would be around to witness the fall of the Hellsing Organization at the hands of Alexander Anderson.  
He could take her by surprise and no one would be the wiser as to what happened to the young woman, but what would the fun in that be? No, the execution of Integral Hellsing would be public, but the capture needed to be quiet not to bring Alucard out before the time was right.  
Anderson just smiled a toothy grin as he ran to Integral, grabbing her around the waist and covering her mouth and nose with his other hand, hauling his struggling victim back toward her office while keeping one hand trained on his blessed blade, ready to grab it if the time was right. She was not easy cargo to haul, as her free hand kept hold of her gun, and she shot him numerous times in the side. Though he was not as strong as a vampire, the priest finally let go of her mouth and grabbed her gun hand, twisting it around until the appendage hung limp at her wrist, the bones being shattered.  
But Integral would not give that sick bastard the pleasure of hearing her scream, no matter how terrible the pain or frightening the plot against her. She would be a soldier until the end.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A shiver passed through Alucard as he moved behind Harrison, for it was highly amusing to watch the priest search through the manor house for anything he could loot or study before it was time to leave with Anderson and the rest. But he now knew that Integral was in danger, for she was screaming mentally for him to come to her office, but instead of her typical annoyance or anger, the emotion that followed her cries was pure terror and pain.  
Anderson must have somehow captured his master.  
Harrison didn't even know what was happening as he felt a cold, hard grip tighten around his waist as he was spirited up to the office where Integral Hellsing stood with Anderson holding one hand around her waist and the other with his blessed blade against her throat.  
"Ahh, vampire. You must have heard your sow squealing and decided to fly to the rescue." Anderson just smirked as he held the blade tight against her throat, threatening to move it deeper if Alucard came any closer.  
Alucard just chuckled, pulling his Jackal from its holster and placed it against Harrison's temple, cocking the trigger almost playfully. "If you even split on hair of hers Judas."  
Walter and McCallister skidded to a halt just outside Integral's office doors, looking in at the horrific scene that was about to play out in front of them. The Catholic blessed himself reflexively as Walter stood dumbfounded, neither wanting to move, less they provoked the two adversaries in to harming their hostages.  
Integral smirked quickly enough that her two employs would know what she was about to do before sobering and closing her eyes.  
"Walter Ddollneazz, I want to praise you for the unwavering service that you have pledged to Hellsing during both my tenure in office and the tenure of Sir Hellsing before me, and I grant you your freedom from the bonds of Hellsing." Her gaze turned cold as she glared at the Retainer. "Get out of my home, you bloody bastard that was a convert to the faith!"  
"Shut your mouth!" Anderson jerked his arm that was around her waist tighter, pressing his fingers in to her stomach painfully, the little Hellsing groaned despite herself at his torture, but Walter was already gone from the doorway with his hands in his pockets.  
"Alucard, by my ancestor's promise, he stated that you would be free from the bonds of Hellsing when the time was right." She smirked, albeit another quick one before looking directly in to the vampire's eyes. "The seals are broken, and have been for some time now. You are free, vampire."  
"I TOLD YOU TO BE QUIET!" Anderson screamed, pushing the blade a little tighter against her neck, loving that she hissed as she felt the sting of the polished metal before a trail of crimson dripped down her pale neck.  
Alucard's eyes went wide upon the sight of his master's blood being shed by neither his hands nor her own. He would kill. It didn't matter who was destroyed now. Every Catholic in the area needed to die if any more harm came to Integral.  
And maybe he should just start with the one in his arms. . . .  
Alucard's laughter permeated the walls, causing Anderson to loosen his grip on the leader of Hellsing just slightly, though she did not move from her place in front of Anderson. "See you in Hell, Judas."  
"ALUCARD! NO!" Integral's scream was cut short, for as the Jackal's bullet passed through Harrison's skull as Alucard bent to drain the blood from the priest, Anderson shoved the blade point first through Integral's neck, dropping her to the floor like an unwanted doll. In a flurry of scripture paper, Anderson was restocked with blades, and had called for McCallister to draw his Holy weapons as well so they could both finish the demon for destroying their brother in faith.  
But as soon as he lunged at Alucard, Anderson found that his blade passed through Harrison's chest, the vampire having disappeared in to the shadows as was typical with his kind.  
"Come on John. We've got to get home."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Walter sat at the bedside of his master, reading the daily news to Sir Integra as she lay bandaged in a hospital bed at one of the local facilities. Thanks to Walter's quick actions, the police and medical teams arrived at Hellsing Manor before Anderson and McCallister had even left the premises and were able to rush the injured soldiers as well as Integral to the hospitals nearby to treat the wounds received in the massacre by the priests.  
Walter even insisted that they take Father Harrison to the hospital, for though he had suffered an injury that would most likely leave the fledgling regenerator with some sort of permanent mental injury, his body had already began to heal the wound from the bullet to his head and the blessed blade to his chest.  
"It seems you received another letter of apology from the Vatican as well Sir Integra." Walter smiled as he finished the newspaper articles of interest and began thumbing through the pieces of mail brought from home. Tearing open the envelope along the edge, he pulled the crisp parchment from its enclosure, unfolding it carefully. "Yes, that is exactly what it is. They still wish to cover up this whole incident though, because the Archdiocese that both priests belong to doesn't need more scandal."  
Integral just glared at Walter. She had been lucky to survive Anderson's attack at all, for the blade had just missed her jugular, hitting instead her esophagus and trachea. She could not eat nor could she speak now, and though the doctors were working hard to give her both of these back again, Walter had overheard the men and women sighing over the futility of the project.  
"My feelings exactly Sir Integra." Walter smiled kindly at her. "I think we should press charges, and perhaps a lawsuit is in order against the Vatican."  
The newly muted Integral smiled and winked, assuming Walter would understand her meaning, still unable to do much from the heavy painkillers the doctors were keeping her on constantly.  
"Dear me, I don't know if we can get Maxwell involved in the scandal. Section Thirteen does not exist, just as Hellsing does not exist. You of all people should understand that.." Walter chuckled as he realized how she planned her revenge. "Oh. Right. Harrison, yes, he's still in the hospital, but I'm certain he'd accidentally tell the authorities how he received those implants."  
Integral rolled her eyes. His plan was all right, but definitely not what she had in mind. If Alucard were here, he could translate her thoughts in to speech. Unfortunately, it was just after noon so Alucard would be asleep.  
She had been upset with Alucard when he first came to her in the hospital, asking if she felt well enough to leave or if she needed anything he could get for her, because of the fact he disappeared and left her for dead. The vampire tried to explain that she would have been even more upset if he would have given her the blood, but rationality never did seem to set well with an irrational mind.  
Oh well, Integral thought as she sighed, slipping down further on her hospital bed. Walter could talk to himself for all she cared right now, for she had finally received the upper hand for negotiations with the Catholics.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Alexander Anderson sat alone in the padded white cell of the prison mental facilities, tired, ragged, and incredibly bored. He had watched his comrade Father McCallister surrender to the police at Hellsing Manor, confessing to assisting with murders, and that he was incredibly sorry for all that occurred because of him, and Anderson was certain that it was for this reason alone that McCallister was already back in America, but being transferred to a new diocese somewhere in the Midwest.  
Was this to be how Father Alexander Anderson would end? The priest mused over the thought for some time over the past week that he had been alone in the cell with no more than one guard to give him meals three times a day as his company. Surely, God had better plans for his humble servant, but the days passed and it appeared that more or less the Vatican had excommunicated him already for his misactions at Hellsing Manor.  
Pulling a crystal rosary from hidden in his pocket, Anderson began to pray, turning the dainty beads in his fingers as he began his repentance. He had killed innocents in his quest to rid the world of its demonic plagues, and atonement and absolution could be all he could hope for before he died, for he would go to Hell with his bloodstained hands.  
As the words of his prayers slipped mechanically from his lips, he wondered if Harrison was still alive. Alucard had not drained his blood, so there could be a chance that the priest was clinging to life somewhere, if he was not fully healed by this time.  
Perhaps if he had waited for Pennington and Fitzpatrick to arrive the results would have been different. But would two more regenerators have really turned the odds against Hellsing? He could only wonder as he continued the prayers.  
He didn't know if Miss Hellsing was dead or alive, though that would be one of the murders he would be accused of. The aim was not to kill her though, and Anderson was certain that he did not hit any vital arteries or veins where he stabbed her. Perhaps he should ask one of the guards when they delivered his meals.  
And of course, Alucard was still undead. This was by far the most disturbing fact of the matter, for now no matter where he would go after prison, the vampire would hunt him wanting revenge for harming the woman he serves.  
But Anderson just smirked. Death would be better than prison and excommunication, and while at prison, Anderson did not stand a chance of escape from his undead rival.  
"Amen." Tossing his rosary against the wall, Anderson just smirked as the crystal beads shattered, scattering around the room. God did not exist anymore, if he existed at all. That was the only fact that Alexander Anderson knew to be absolutely true. 


	9. Epilogue

*kicks random objects..* Stupid windows for not saving my fic correctly and stupid ff.net for not allowing me to just replace my chapter.  
  
So dear readers, disregard those last two terrible paragraphs from the previous chapter. THIS written below is what was meant to have been said. Those two paragraphs were my weird little way of reminding myself where I wanted to go. They were never meant to be published. Ever.  
  
But please dear readers, just read this epiloge/end of chapter 8, and then after disregarding those two last paragraphs of chapter 8, review and let me know how I did, though I apparently am an idiot when it comes to technology.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Walter sat at the bedside of his master, reading the daily news to Sir Integra as she lay bandaged in a hospital bed at one of the local facilities. Thanks to Walter's quick actions, the police and medical teams arrived at Hellsing Manor before Anderson and McCallister had even left the premises and were able to rush the injured soldiers as well as Integral to the hospitals nearby to treat the wounds received in the massacre by the priests.  
Walter even insisted that they take Father Harrison to the hospital, for though he had suffered an injury that would most likely leave the fledgling regenerator with some sort of permanent mental injury, his body had already began to heal the wound from the bullet to his head and the blessed blade to his chest.  
"It seems you received another letter of apology from the Vatican as well Sir Integra." Walter smiled as he finished the newspaper articles of interest and began thumbing through the pieces of mail brought from home. Tearing open the envelope along the edge, he pulled the crisp parchment from its enclosure, unfolding it carefully. "Yes, that is exactly what it is. They still wish to cover up this whole incident though, because the Archdiocese that both priests belong to doesn't need more scandal."  
Integral just glared at Walter. She had been lucky to survive Anderson's attack at all, for the blade had just missed her jugular, hitting instead her esophagus and trachea. She could not eat but through IV fluid nor could she speak now, and though the doctors were working hard to give her both of these functions back again, Walter had overheard the men and women sighing over the futility of the project.  
"My feelings exactly Sir Integra." Walter smiled kindly at her. "I think we should press charges, and perhaps a lawsuit is in order against the Vatican."  
The newly muted Integral smirked and winked, assuming Walter would understand her meaning, still unable to do much from the heavy painkillers the doctors were keeping her on constantly.  
"Dear me, I don't know if we can get Maxwell involved in the scandal. Section Thirteen does not exist, just as Hellsing does not exist. You of all people should understand that.." Walter chuckled as he realized how she planned her revenge. "Oh. Right. Harrison, yes, he's still in the hospital, but I'm certain he'd accidentally tell the authorities how he received those implants."  
Integral rolled her eyes. His plan was all right, but definitely not what she had in mind. If Alucard were here, he could translate her thoughts in to speech. Unfortunately, it was just after noon so Alucard would be asleep.  
She had been upset with Alucard when he first came to her in the hospital, asking if she felt well enough to leave or if she needed anything he could get for her, because of the fact he disappeared and left her for dead. The vampire tried to explain that she would have been even more upset if he would have given her the blood, but rationality never did seem to set well with an irrational mind.  
Oh well, Integral thought as she sighed, slipping down further on her hospital bed. Walter could talk to himself for all she cared right now, for she had finally received the upper hand for negotiations with the Catholics.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Alexander Anderson sat alone in the padded white cell of the prison mental facilities, tired, ragged, and incredibly bored. He had watched his comrade Father McCallister surrender to the police at Hellsing Manor, confessing to assisting with murders, and that he was incredibly sorry for all that occurred because of him, and Anderson was certain that it was for this reason alone that McCallister was already back in America, but being transferred to a new diocese somewhere in the Midwest.  
Was this to be how Father Alexander Anderson would end? The priest mused over the thought for some time over the past week that he had been alone in the cell with no more than one guard to give him meals three times a day as his company. Surely, God had better plans for his humble servant, but the days passed and it appeared that more or less the Vatican had excommunicated him already for his misactions at Hellsing Manor.  
Pulling a crystal rosary from hidden in his pocket, Anderson began to pray, turning the dainty beads in his fingers as he began his repentance. He had killed innocents in his quest to rid the world of its demonic plagues, and atonement and absolution could be all he could hope for before he died, for he would go to Hell with his bloodstained hands.  
As the words of his prayers slipped mechanically from his lips, he wondered if Harrison was still alive. Alucard had not drained his blood, so there could be a chance that the priest was clinging to life somewhere, if he was not fully healed by this time.  
Perhaps if he had waited for Pennington and Fitzpatrick to arrive the results would have been different. But would two more regenerators have really turned the odds against Hellsing? He could only wonder as he continued the prayers.  
He didn't know if Miss Hellsing was dead or alive either, though that would be one of the murders he would be accused of if she did truly depart from the world of the living. The aim was not to kill her though, and Anderson was certain that he did not hit any vital arteries or veins where he stabbed her. Perhaps he should ask one of the guards when they delivered his meals.  
And of course, Alucard was still undead. This was by far the most disturbing fact of the matter, for now no matter where he would go after prison, the vampire would hunt him wanting revenge for harming the woman he serves.  
But Anderson just smirked. Death would be better than prison and excommunication, and while at prison, Anderson did not stand a chance of escape from his undead rival.  
"Amen." Throwing his rosary against the wall, Anderson just smirked as the crystal beads shattered, scattering around the room. God did not exist anymore, if he ever existed at all. That was the only fact that Alexander Anderson knew to be the absolute truth. 


End file.
